Agent Grantham vs the Ficlets
by kahhtina
Summary: A collection of Agent Grantham drabbles made from Tumblr prompts.
1. Chapter 1

**Agent Crawley vs. the Reassignment**

"What the hell is this?"

"Your new assignment, sir," the man replied, shoving the thick envelope into Matthew's hands.

"I didn't ask to be reassigned," he protested, slipping his finger under the lip of the envelope.

"Change of plans, Agent Crawley. The Colonel wants two agents on this right away."

Matthew pulled out the stack of papers, his eyes briefly skimming over another agent's file, her eyes staring blankly at him from a photograph.

"Agent Mary Grantham? Isn't there someone a bit closer to London?" he questioned.

"We need a fresh face," the man replied. _Cryptic, as usual_, Matthew thought.

"Surely she isn't my mark? An agent who won't kill unless absolutely necessary doesn't seem like a threat."

"_She_ isn't. But her cover isn't as firm as it used to be and Agent Grantham is too…prone to overreaction to be told her life may be in danger."

"So why bother sending her on assignments at all? If she could compromise the agency-"

"She's too good not to. A trigger-happy agent isn't always a good thing, as you know, Crawley. And you're one of the few agents who could protect her. If she doesn't trust you, maybe she'll be safer."

"But you want me to just appear in the middle of her mission? Without so much as warning her? I'm sorry, but that just seems wrong. What if she shoots me?"

"She won't," the man said flatly.

Matthew looked down at the black and white picture again, surprised by the withering stare the photograph seemed to be giving him. "I just hope she smiles more in real life."

"Not really."

"Well, I do_ like a good argument_."


	2. Chapter 2

**Missing Agent**

"How the hell can someone just disappear? How could Tom just _disappear_?"

Mary was beside herself, practically shouting at Matthew as he held what used to be Tom's shoes and his shirt and trousers.

It had been seven hours since her old partner was taken by that horrid con-woman. Seven hours since she and Matthew had heard him speaking to Sybil before they heard nothing. At first, Mary and Matthew had been tailing Tom—or at least what they thought was Tom—until they found his watch stuck to the bumper of a car driving through west London. And then they'd located most of his clothes in a bin in Hyde Park, along with his ear piece, but no Tom.

"Mary, calm down," Matthew said as they walked into the office. "You've been awake for over 24 hours, you need sleep."

He set Tom's clothes on a nearby desk and she rounded on him.

"No. No, I do not need sleep I need to find Tom! What if she's killed him and his body is floating down the Thames?" she asked, feeling more hysterical by the second, prompting a few nearby analysts to glare at her over their morning coffees.

Matthew sighed, stepping forward to place a tentative hand on Mary's shoulder. "The Colonel has his best people on it, Mary. They will find Tom, I assure you. And Sybil Browne doesn't kill people, you know that."

She exhaled slowly, her tension only heightened by Matthew's touch. She swallowed, looking at his hand. "Well, there's a first time for everything," she whispered, not wholly referring to the con-woman anymore.

He frowned, as though considering her words. "Is there?" he asked, licking his lips, a habit of his Mary found horribly distracting.

"You're right. I need sleep," she said, heading for her office.

"Why don't you go home?" Matthew asked, following after her.

"Why don't you wake me if anything happens?" Mary retorted as she slipped into her office. She shut the door in his face and heard Matthew laughing as he walked away, presumably to his own office to sleep or to find some coffee.

Even though Tom was missing, she couldn't help but smile over the fact that Matthew had indulged her search for her old partner for so long. They'd never gone so long without getting in an argument before.


	3. Chapter 3

**Agent Grantham vs. the Nap**

Matthew knocked, but hearing no response after a few moments, he opened her office door. Mary was curled up in her desk chair, head resting against a jacket she'd rolled up as a make-shift pillow. He'd come in to tell her that nothing had been heard about Tom yet, but he couldn't bear to wake her, she looked so exhausted. She shifted in her sleep and Matthew couldn't help but smile as she curled up tighter, as though she found the air too cold for her liking. He slipped out of his sport coat, lightly draping it over Mary's shoulders and tucking the collar beneath her chin. She sighed, still asleep.

"Sleep tight," Matthew murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple before pulling away. He'd check on her in a few hours, hopefully with some news of Tom.

He slipped out of the office, carefully shutting the door behind him.

From beneath Matthew's jacket, Mary opened one eye, trying not to smile too big as she adjusted the coat, drifting back to sleep with Matthew's cologne tickling her senses.


	4. Chapter 4

**Agent Grantham vs. the Green-Eyed Monster**

"Are you really wearing that?"

Mary looked down at her outfit, checking to see if a button was out of place or there was a tear in her stocking. Finding nothing, she looked up, meeting Matthew's appalled gaze.

"What? Didn't you hear Carson? I'm to go down to the docks and—"

"Yes, yes, I heard," Matthew said in a snippy tone. "I just don't think it's a good idea."

Mary rolled her eyes, pleased Matthew seemed so angry. "I know how to take care of myself," she replied.

"I know that. I just don't like the idea of all those—cads looking at you."

As though responding to Matthew's words, a few co-workers wolf-whistled at Mary as they walked by.

"Get bent," she retorted at the other agents in good humor, Matthew's frown deepening. "It's fine."

"I can practically see your bum!" he said, nearly shouting as Mary bent to pick something up.

"Well…don't look," she said with a smirk, enjoying the color that had risen in Matthew's cheeks. "Unless, of course, you want to."

"Stop practicing on me," he demanded, blushing deeper.

"Practice makes perfect," Mary teased, leaning close to him, batting her eyelashes seductively.

"Nope, I don't like this at all," Matthew said.

"Well, you don't have to. Just be there for backup. I swear, I'll let you kick anyone's ass after we've found the perp."


	5. Chapter 5

**_Amerigirltn_**_ Tumblr prompt: An Agent Grantham prompt: Mary and Matthew have to go undercover (literally?) as lovers._

_Enjoy!_

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**Agent Grantham vs. the Fake Boyfriend**

"Why are you wearing that?"

Mary looked down at the t-shirt she'd nicked from Matthew's case, her legs protruding from beneath it.

"You're supposed to be my boyfriend, so why wouldn't I wear your shirt to sleep in?" she questioned, settling on the corner of the bed. Matthew rolled his eyes. "What? It's part of my cover!"

"Well, it hardly covers a thing," he retorted, eyeing her bare thighs. "Plus, I only brought one, so what am I supposed to sleep in?"

"That's not my fault," she replied, climbing under the covers.

"Yes, it is-it's entirely you're fault," Matthew said huffily. He sighed, tugging off his shirt. "I suppose I'll just have to sleep naked."

"You have pants! I saw them in your bag," she objected, pulling her eyes away from his well-defined chest. He slipped out of his trousers and she covered her eyes. "I saw pajama bottoms in there."

"But you're my _girlfriend_," he said, struggling to say the word through his laughter. "That means I don't have to wear pants, doesn't it?" He slid into the bed beside her and Mary pulled away, afraid he was actually naked, but not sure since she hadn't opened her eyes.

"Relax, I have pants on," Matthew said.

"I don't trust you," she retorted, still closing her eyes.

Matthew grabbed her hand and she struggled to pull it from his grip, horrified as he put her hand on his hip.

"Thank God," Mary sighed, opening her eyes after touching the cotton of his underwear. Matthew rolled his eyes dramatically.

"It wouldn't against our cover if I slept in the buff-actually, it would be rather appropriate," he replied with a smirk, snuggling under the covers. "What if someone burst in here? Or there was a fire and we had to evacuate the building?"

"Then I would push you into the fire," she retorted, pulling the blanket up to her chin as Matthew flicked off the lights, laughing loudly.

"Well, goodnight, _sweetheart_," Matthew said.

"Do shut up," Mary entreated. "Hey, stay on your side!"

He'd rolled toward her, his bare leg touching hers. "It's part of the cover," he whispered through the dark.

"I'm going to strangle you with that pillow case," she retorted, kicking his leg away.

"You will not," Matthew murmured, smoothing his hand over her hair. "What if someone comes in?"

"Then I'll kill them right after I kill you," she said, shoving his hand away.

He laughed again, rolling back onto his side. "Fine. Sleep tight."

Mary lay silent, her eyes on the dark ceiling as Matthew fell asleep, her heart racing while the spot where his toes had brushed against on her leg feeling as though it were on fire.


	6. Chapter 6

_Anonymous asked: Agent Grantham request- m/m are tasked to protect the (very forward) teenaged daughter of an official targeted to be murdered._

_Enjoy!_

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**Agent Grantham vs. the Schoolgirl**

"Bloody hell, what a pain in the ass," Mary whispered, following Matthew down the corridor.

"I dunno, she seems kind of sweet," Matthew replied.

Mary snorted loudly. "Did you even hear what she said about my hair?"

"She said it would look better if it was longer, but I don't see how that—" Matthew paused, realization hitting him. "Well, for the record, I like your hair."

"For the record, no one cares. But, God, what a little brat. I can't believe we're babysitting her for the next week—or until her father's kill order expires, but _whatever_. I did not go through two years of training to watch some spoiled little rich kid."

"She's not so bad," Matthew maintained, heading into one of the sitting rooms.

"You only like her because she keeps making goo-goo eyes at you," Mary said, taking a seat on one of the sofas and grabbing the laptop they'd hooked up to the security feed.

"She's just a kid," Matthew scoffed. "And this is work."

"Seventeen is pretty close to eighteen," Mary murmured, looking over the top of the computer as Matthew stretched out beside her.

"Yes, but thirty-two is not, so I'd be grateful if you'd stop going on about it. I'd sooner date you than get arrested," he replied.

Mary blinked at him. "Me?" she questioned.

Matthew brushed it aside. "And besides, blonde isn't really my type."

Mary rolled her eyes. "You're a blonde, you loon. And way to generalize an entire segment of the population."

"You knew what I meant," he said.

"I suppose you like brunettes?" Mary asked, tucking a strand of her own dark brown hair behind her ear.

"You could say that," Matthew said, smirking as he folded his hands behind his head. "But it doesn't matter. Wake me if anything interesting happens."

He shut his eyes, but not for long, as their charge had bounded into the room, squealing his name.

"Matthew! Look at this funny video my friend just posted," the girl said, plopping at his side, iPhone outstretched.

"Adrian, I thought you had homework," Mary said, feeling more and more like a babysitter. "And you're not supposed to be online, the I.P. address—"

She rolled her eyes, as though Mary was an annoying older sister. "It's fine, isn't it, Matthew?"

"Actually, you probably shouldn't, it isn't safe," Matthew countered, leaning away from the girl as she encroached on his personal space. Adrian shot a look of annoyance at Mary, who gave her a rather smug smile.

"Sorry. In fact, you really shouldn't have a phone at all," Mary said, taking the device out of her hand before she could object.

"What am I supposed to do all night?" Adrian asked huffily.

"You have books. They're quite stimulating," Mary replied.

"God, this is horrible! First daddy gets a death threat and now I'm imprisoned in my own home, forced to live like a recluse without internet!" she complained.

Mary forced herself not to roll her eyes. "You'll survive."

After another teenage-esque moan, Adrian left the room in a rage, slamming her bedroom door hard.

"She can't get out through the window, can she?" Matthew asked.

Mary pointed the laptop toward him. "Not unless she wants to run into the snipers on the roof," she said, showing him the video feed.

"Hmm, I'm impressed, Mary," he said. "You're good at this."

She winked at him and Matthew laughed, the sound filling her with a strange happiness she hadn't felt in a long time.

* * *

_**Thoughts?**_


	7. Chapter 7

_Amerigirltn asked: Can you let us know what happens when the two agents wake up their bodies entwined?_

_Part 1 can be read in chapter 5 of this story._

_Enjoy!_

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**Agent Grantham vs. the Fake Boyfriend**, part 2

She breathed in and out, the remnants of sleep slowly ebbing away as she took stock in her surroundings, a feeling of warmth the first noticeable sensation. It filled her limbs, spreading out from her core down to her toes, an inexplicable contentment in her bones.

And then she noticed it. A gentle puff of air against her cheek, steady and hot, accompanying a movement against her arm, the feeling of Matthew's skin pressing to hers. An arm was wound around her waist, pinning her body to one spot, her arm tucked beneath his in a mangle of limbs and bodies.

Mary opened her eyes, finding Matthew's face too close in the morning light. His eyes were still shut, allowing her to watch him for a few tense moments, her heart beating unevenly against her ribs. One of her hands rested against Matthew's bare chest, her fingers lightly brushing across his collar bone. She held her breath, terrified he would wake and see their bodies merged together in sleep by a need neither of them could express when awake

Blue eyes opened slowly, blinking sleepily as they focused on hers, no look of surprise in them. He didn't speak, either because he didn't want to or, like Mary, because he couldn't. They both simply looked at the other, Matthew's gaze unusually soft.

Finally, Mary took a breath, unsteadily sucking air through her lips. Matthew lowered his eyes, his gaze fixing on her mouth. Slowly, Mary exhaled, index finger trailing over Matthew's chest before she made a fist, wanting to apologize but still unable to speak.

He watched her intently, his brow scrunching in momentary thought before he closed the space between them, their lips touching softly, the first time they'd met as just Mary and Matthew. No cover, no lies.

Mary placed her hand on Matthew's cheek, the feeling of stubble against her palm and fingers as she held his face to hers, kissing him back with an intensity she was unable to control and at a loss to explain. Need overtook logic, Mary's tongue forcing his lips to part as her hand grazed down his neck and across his chest. His hands forced her shirt up as the tips of his fingers moved over her skin, a low moan escaping her as he rolled on top of her, his mouth against her neck.

He lifted his head, turning to the window for a moment and Mary kissed his cheek, combing her fingers through his hair.

"Oh, dammit," Matthew breathed, his face returning to hers. He pressed his lips to her neck before speaking again, his voice so quiet she wouldn't have heard it if he hadn't been by her ear.

"Two men outside the window. They've found us."

_**Thoughts?**_


	8. Chapter 8

_Anonymous on Tumblr asked: Agent Grantham vs the Fake Boyfriend - why are they undercover as lovers. Who are the men outside their window. Do they address what happened between them or chalk it to their cover._

_Pretty brief, but enjoy!_

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**Agent Grantham vs. the Fake Boyfriend**, part 3

Matthew hovered over her, his lips gently trailing down her neck as Mary checked her peripherals, the two men in question slipping out of sight just as she looked.

"Oh, crap," she breathed, half-angered that Matthew had noticed them at all. Kissing him for real had been much too nice.

"We've got to get dressed," Matthew said, shifting off her finally. Mary sat up, but paused, her eyes trained on him as he rifled through his suitcase after shutting the curtains.

Had Matthew known the two men were there as soon as he woke up? After all, he had been facing the window and she could hardly remember if he'd looked away from her before they kissed, even for a millisecond, she wouldn't have noticed, for she was too distracted by his closeness.

"Mary," Matthew interrupted her thoughts, prompting her to stand and walk mechanically to her own suitcase.

She dressed, unable to stop herself from gazing at Matthew.

_Had _the kiss been real?

"Matthew, did you…know those men were there the whole time?" she asked carefully, buttoning her shirt. She thought his eyes widened briefly, as though contemplating what to tell her, but his response was almost immediate.

"Yeah," he said, but his voice cracked on the word. "Yeah, right when I opened my eyes I saw them behind you."

She nodded, tugging on her shoes. "So that kiss was-?"

"For cover, of course."

Mary's heart fell, but she tried not to show it, flicking hair over her shoulder.

"Of course," she agreed, unable to stop disappointment from creeping into her voice. She turned away, unaware that Matthew watched her, an expression of regret on his face.

"We need to go," he said, his voice softer than before. "We might run into some trouble if they know what we're up to here."

"Well, let's get moving," Mary said, tone harsh as she grabbed her bag and flung it over her shoulder. She slipped her gun into the waistband of her jeans before moving toward the door, but Matthew took her arm.

"Mary—" he began, an inexplicable look of apology on his face.

But a knock on the door interrupted him.


	9. Chapter 9

_Tumblor prompt, groveyswife said: Please continue Agent Grantham vs the fake boyfriend! Oh my goodness. I need to know who is at the door. :)_

_Enjoy!_

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**Agent Grantham vs. the Fake Boyfriend**, part 4

They stared at one another briefly, Mary's curiosity about what he'd been about to say desperately peaked but Matthew spoke suddenly, back in cover-mode.

"Darling, could you get that?" he asked, loud enough that anyone listening for a response inside the room could hear. Matthew's eyes flicked to the door and Mary saw that his other hand held his gun.

She dropped her pack on the bed before crossing to the door, fingers itching to take hold of her own weapon as she unlocked the door and pulled it aside.

Eyes widening inconspicuously, Mary found herself at gunpoint, the two men from the window now standing in the corridor.

"Oh, my God, what's going on?" she asked, raising the pitch of her voice.

"Cut the crap, Agent Grantham," one of the men said, an American accent present. "I think you know what we're after."

Behind her, the safety on Matthew's gun clicked off as he leveled his weapon at the two men.

"We don't have the cipher," Matthew said.

"No…not yet," the other man spoke with an accent Mary couldn't quite place. "But you know where it is, don't you?"

"Who are you?" Mary asked, lifting her hands in surrender, as both of the men's guns were trained on her rather than Matthew.

"Freelancers, working for a very important person," the first man spoke again. "And unless you want to die, Agent Crawley, you'll lead us to the cipher. It's got some pretty important information on it, hasn't it?"

"What do you know about it?" Matthew asked.

"We know that our client wouldn't appreciate the MI-6 having it," the second man said.

"What makes you think we'll give it to you?" Matthew questioned, disdain in his voice.

The first man grabbed Mary's wrist and pulled her to him, locking his arm around her neck while placing the end of his gun to her head.

She heard the twisted smile in his voice as he replied, "Or I'll shoot her."


	10. Chapter 10

**Agent Grantham vs the Fake Boyfriend**, part 5

Sweat beaded on her forehead as the cool metal of the gun pressed to her temple, her eyes searching Matthew's face. She'd just started to trust him, but she vaguely wondered if it had been misplaced. Would he let her die for the sake of the cipher?

He looked back at her, his eyes impassive as he glanced away again.

"What makes you think it matters to me if you kill her?" he spoke coldly.

One of the men laughed. "That kiss."

"It—it was for cover," Matthew managed, his voice forced.

"Was it, Agent Crawley? Then why did we only see the end of it?"

Mary felt her mouth go dry. The kiss _had _been real.

Matthew's eyes flicked to hers, the fear she saw there surprising even when she thought nothing else could surprise her that day.

"Drop you weapon, if you please," the man holding Mary said, his partner tossing her concealed weapon aside. "And take us to the cipher."

She watched as Matthew swallowed, slowly bending down to place his gun on the floor before kicking it away.

"Fine. But you're going to have to give us cover if you want it so badly."

"Oh, we'll cover you all right."

The grip around Mary's neck was loosened, the man roughly grabbing her arm instead as he pushed her into the corridor, shifting his gun so it pressed into her back, the metal firmly against her spine.

"Let her go," Matthew said, following after them, the other man bringing up the rear. Mary couldn't tell if he was being restrained or not, but she had never heard him so angry before.

"An incentive, Agent Crawley, for you to do as we ask and not double-cross us. Agent Grantham will be perfectly safe as long as you lead us to the cipher."

She was forced down a dingy corridor, all of Matthew's attempts to get close to her thwarted by her captor. The man forced her out into an alley, throwing open the door of a black van and pushing her inside. He climbed in next to her, Matthew watching at gunpoint while the first man cuffed her wrists behind her back and bound her ankles together.

"Now, should we tie you up, too, Agent Crawley?"

"I'll come quietly," Matthew insisted, climbing into the van beside Mary.

"There aren't any other weapons in the back, so it's fruitless to try to overpower us," the second man spoke, slamming the door hard at the end of his sentence.

The other man rose, shifting to the front seat while his accomplice climbed into the driver's side.

"Are you alright?" Matthew whispered, his fingers touching her wrist where the cuffs cut in.

"Fine," she managed, her heart racing. He sat on the floor by her side, his hand gently clasping around her arm. The van lurched around a corner and she leaned in to Matthew's shoulder, unable to control her equilibrium as the vehicle surged forward, her hands useless behind her.

"I'm so sorry, Mary," he breathed, his touch still soft as he helped her stay upright. "God, I'm sorry."

"About what?" she questioned, meeting his eyes. "Me being tied up or the kiss?"

His eyebrows knit together, his face nearly as close to hers as it had been when they kissed.

"A bit of both, I suppose," he murmured. "But mostly that it had to end."

Her heart nearly stopped as he van careened around another corner and she crashed into Matthew's chest, his arm holding her close.

"I'll get you out of this," he breathed, lips near her ear. "I swear."

"Give us directions, Agent Crawley!" the driver barked. "And stop whispering back there!"

Matthew's nose briefly touched her ear before he left her side, crouching by the front seat to direct them to the location of the cipher.


End file.
